Empire of Shadows

A busy day.

Come the weekend, the bakery would become exceptionally busy, the benefit of the double days off resulting in a sharp increase in sales for the day.

In the next two days, most people were unwilling to go out to purchase food, especially when the weather had gradually become hotter.

So they would buy two or three days' worth of bread, then enjoy a quiet weekend at home or go for a picnic in the countryside.

Entertainment for Federation people now was not abundant, for ordinary people, watching TV and taking trips to the outdoors were among the few amusements that didn't require any expense.

Like going to a bar, opera house, or nightclub—those were beyond the means of their class.

The same was true for amusement parks, crowded and also not cheap.

Ironically, those unable to afford such luxuries were the very ones creating wealth for society, sometimes reality proved stranger than fiction.

A little past eight in the evening, the business at the bakery finally wound down, and surprisingly, today's dinner featured pizza.

Pizza had a history of fifty to sixty years in the Federation, from initially being a "hometown dish" for a small group, it had undergone much local adaptation to become a highly popular cuisine.

Even because of the pizza sales in the Federation, many believed that Federation pizza was the most authentic, causing some areas where pizza may have appeared earlier to align their production style and flavors with the Federation.

This was one of the paramount reasons why adults were frenziedly praising the economy of the Federation—everyone was emulating the economically strongest.

In the "pool" of pizza, there was an abundance of cheese, almost spilling over, with sausage slices and beef chunks laid out generously, topped off with a layer of ham.

The fat boss treated the ham like his precious darling, securing the storeroom every evening upon closing to check on the row of hams.

Although Fodis didn't think the Sogmu ham from the bakery was very authentic, it had been purchased for four hundred ninety-nine dollars, totaling fifty-five pounds.

Calculating that less than two ounces, roughly fifty grams, would sell for two dollars and fifty cents each, a stick of ham was valued at around one thousand two hundred fifty dollars in the bakery.

Buying—and selling ham was actually more profitable than selling bread, but those who bought ham were still a minority.

Ordinary people couldn't afford, nor were they willing, to spend hundreds of dollars on quality ham, even a few slices for two dollars and fifty cents required some consideration.

There was cheaper ham available, one yuan per serving, and though not particularly authentic in flavor, its affordability made it the most profitable item in the bakery, bar none.

The ham, roasted over charcoal, emitted a fragrance hard to describe, a complex amalgam of aromas from the cheese, sausage, beef, and the crust, forcing Lance to admit that at least in making pizza, Johnny was quite skilled.

"Sit, Lance."

As Lance was wiping the floor, he let out a whistle then took off his apron and sat by the dining table.

The fat boss's daughter looked at her father and then at Lance with some surprise, becoming very bashful.

The fat boss didn't notice this, all his attention was on Lance.

"Eat a bit?"

"You're not going to charge me extra for this, are you?" Lance didn't start eating.

The fat boss looked slightly chagrined, "Is this the image you have of me?"

"I know I'm strict with you on a regular basis, but you can't deny you have food, drink, and a job here."

Lance interjected, "And I also owe you four dollars."

The fat boss's face hardened, "I was just joking with you, don't you have a sense of humor?"

Just then, a sweat-soaked apprentice who had just finished his work walked out of the back hall.

The weather was becoming hotter, and the work harder, the back hall's oven emitting a deadly heat like a small sun.

Each summer, newspapers would report accidents by the bakery's oven, heat fainting seemed to be becoming a benchmark to determine whether a summer was hot enough.

He had changed into a fresh set of clothing and wiped his hands, intending to sit down when the fat boss looked up at him, "What are you doing here?"

The apprentice was bewildered, seeing the fragrant pizza on the table, partly due to his own effort.

He stammered, uncertain what to say, "I ... you said we were having this for dinner."

The fat boss pointed with his finger at Lance, his own daughter, and then himself, "Us."

Then, pointing at the apprentice, "You."

"Are 'us' and 'you' the same thing?"

"I really wonder if your primary school teacher had water in their head to teach you to be like this, your dinner is in the cupboard in the back, you know, the bread from the day before yesterday."

The day before yesterday's bread was like stone, always some leftover, and those leftovers were their dinner.

The apprentice wore an incredulous expression, unable to believe that Lance could sit at the table while he, a local who worked a full thirty days a month without taking a cent but instead was giving the owner ten dollars, didn't even have the right to eat pizza!

He glared at the fat boss; the young man's temper flaring, but the fat boss was unyielding, "If you don't want to work, you can roll out, and don't let that damn mother of yours come kneeling to me!"

As if struck at a vital point, the tightly wound apprentice with clenched fists suddenly deflated.

Like an invertebrate stripped of its spine, he could only squirm helplessly on the ground.

He bowed his head and turned around, walking towards the back hall—that was where he was supposed to be, not here.

Lance picked up a slice, the abundance of cheese and meat on it was the most lavish meal he had seen since coming here!

Biting into it, his teeth first crushed the slightly crispy, baked ham that had all its fat released, then sliced through the crispy-on-the-outside yet still soft-on-the-inside sausage.

Next came the slightly sticky cheese, with a rich milk fragrance that exploded like a volcanic eruption, and as he chewed, the beef granules were ground up, stimulating every taste bud with their unique texture!

When he swallowed it, the distinctive wheat flavor of the crust began to emerge, along with hints of basil leaves and other spices. This pizza was simply a work of art!

He wolfed down the pizza, even the crusty edges, and then picked up a second slice.

The fat owner's eye twitched; he had only wined and dined Lance to find out who it was that had brought him back today.

If that someone was beyond his reach, as a lowly commoner and an emerging capitalist, he would know to tactfully back off.

Countless operas featured people attempting to challenge authority, only to become a footnote in history.

And those who successfully took revenge were either nobility or part of the privileged classes.

From the beginning, people deeply understood this: the lower classes were doomed to tragedy.

Comedy and feel-good stories—those belonged to the upper echelons of society—

Sudden enlightenments of kings, princesses achieving happiness, down-on-their-luck nobles fulfilling their dreams, and poor boys tragically crushed under the conventional rules of secular law!

See, people have always known this, yet they still encourage the poor boy to daydream.

While the fat owner might be seen as wealthy in someone else's eyes, he was still at the very bottom of society.

Lance reached for another piece, devouring it with big bites. Just as he was about to take a third, the fat owner stopped him, "If you like it that much, you can take your time. The rest is all yours."

"But could you satisfy a little bit of my curiosity?"

Lance licked his lips; the taste of the meat's fat and the rich creaminess of the cheese were truly unforgettable.

He pushed aside the fat owner's hand and picked up the third slice, "In the Empire, there's a custom that you don't talk while you're eating—it's a sign of good breeding."

"Whatever it is, let's talk after dinner."

Unable to deter him, the fat owner quickly grabbed two slices, gave one to his daughter, and crammed the other into his mouth.

For a moment, it was a race to see who could eat fastest.

In less than five minutes, the large pizza was left with only the tray and some scraps.

Lance poked forcefully at the scraps with his finger, which then stuck to his fingertips, and he wrapped them into his mouth.

When there was no longer anything left on the plate, he finally patted his stomach and sighed contentedly, thinking that a cigarette would have made it even better.

"What were you saying just now?"

The fat owner repeated his question, "The guy who brought you back this afternoon, are you close with him?"

Lance did not lie, "Not bad, I know his boss."

"He has a boss?" the fat owner exclaimed!

In his eyes, Fodis, well-dressed and driving an expensive car, was already an upper-class figure. It was unexpected to him that there was someone above Fodis and that he was acquainted with Lance.

He now somewhat regretted that he had done those terrible things to Lance without fully understanding his background.

If Lance decided to take revenge...

He couldn't even begin to imagine!

Of course, there was still a curiosity that made him start to take an interest in Mr. Fodis's boss. This might have been the dumbest thing he had ever done—exploiting Lance.

But it could also be his chance to rise—getting to know important people!

He leaned forward, his body tilting, with an attitude that was almost ingratiating, "You and his boss..."

Lance sipped a little coffee, which to his surprise wasn't the cheap roasted twigs but rich coffee bean oils that saturated each sip, making its allure palpable.

After taking a big gulp, he set down the cup and belched, "You know, my friend ran into some trouble this afternoon, and I need to come up with two hundred dollars quickly."

"I don't know any big shots around here, so I found a finance company on the next street over."

"Finance company?" The fat owner had a bad feeling but still wanted confirmation.

Lance nodded earnestly, "Yes, a finance company. I borrowed some money, three hundred dollars. His dropping me off was just to check if I had a job and to make sure they could find me later on..."

The fat owner's eyes quickly flushed red with anger, gritting his teeth as he hissed Lance's name through clenched teeth—

"Lance, go mop the floor again!"

"And that pizza is five dollars. You now owe me nine dollars!"

"If you don't finish by nine o'clock, get out and sleep elsewhere!"